


The Deadly Aster

by Vox (Akumeoi)



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Espionage, Forbidden Love, M/M, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/Vox
Summary: During a tense mission, Nezumi runs into an old rival/lover of his - Shion, who seems to be acting suspiciously. Could the spy from No. 6 possibly have turned traitor? And what does that mean for their forbidden relationship?(Gift for ritzypotato on tumblr for the 2016No. 6 Secret Santa.)





	The Deadly Aster

When Nezumi smelled that faint, sickly sweet scent, he immediately knew what it meant – though apparently, the poor saps who were currently scattered over the ground like so many toy soldiers had had no idea. Fortunately, the gas mask he had swiped from a fallen soldier was perfectly up to the job of filtering out the Fennec Fox’s poison gas. Well, if the good Fox had come through here, there was no need to be stealthy. Nezumi already knew that every soldier he passed would be dead.

It was a totally bizarre feeling, to be strolling through this secret underground bunker without having to peer around every corner for fear of being discovered. Of course, as an experienced spy, Nezumi could never not be on his guard. The loudest sound in this hallway, apart from the humming of the bunker’s heating system, was Nezumi’s own footfalls. A weaker man would have been seriously creeped out. A million questions ran through Nezumi’s mind – why had all these men been killed? Every government in the world was trying to get their hands on the plans Nezumi had been sent to get, but he knew of none which should have been so ready to turn this bunker into a slaughterhouse. Was the man responsible still here? And if so, would he be alone?

As he approached the central hub, Nezumi automatically resumed the silent, predatory movement he reserved for sneaking around dangerous, inhabited buildings. Since he hadn’t run into Fennec yet, there was a high probability he’d be in the general’s office, Nezumi’s own target. Sidling up to the entrance to the office, Nezumi pressed his ear to the heavy wood door and tried to hear anything through it. After a few moments, his sensitive ears detected the faintest noises of someone moving around in there.

The Fennec Fox. It had to be.

Well, Nezumi had no choice but to go in there and try to complete his mission. Gingerly, he tested the door handle, trying to be as quiet as possible as he twisted it around - and found it unlocked. With his gun held in front of him, he burst into the room, completely ready to fire if necessary.

“Hands up!” he ordered, aiming his gun directly at –

_What?_

The man behind the desk was not the brutish, big-eared murderer Nezumi had been expected in the slightest. Instead, it was –

“Nice to see you, Ophelia,” Shion said, glancing up once before returning to rifling through the general’s desk. When Nezumi realised that his first instinct had been to think of Shion by his first name, he grimaced in annoyance, holstering his gun and shutting the door firmly behind him. As Shion wasn’t wearing a gas mask, Nezumi figured it was safe to take his off and hung it around his neck instead.

“Aster,” Nezumi said by way of greeting. Aster was Shion’s codename, just as Ophelia was Nezumi’s. Though many of the other agents Nezumi knew preferred to refer to Shion by his nickname, the Mad Doctor.

Nezumi and Shion had history, no matter how much Nezumi tried to hide it. Nezumi knew Shion’s real name, for God’s sake – something totally unthinkable with every other agent. No matter, Nezumi knew he would have no trouble remaining professional. Shion appeared to be going through the papers in the general’s desk, having spread them all out on top of the desk with every drawer open. Casting a quick eye over the jumble of text in front of him, Nezumi decided to do this the easy way.

“Alright, where are the plans?” he said, folding his arms.

“Hmm? I’ve got them right here,” Shion said, patting his shirt to indicate he’d hidden them somewhere under his clothing, Nezumi didn’t want to think where. “But don’t worry, they’re going to end up with the government of No. 5 soon enough.”

Of course, Nezumi worked for the great city of No. 5. Shion worked for the city of No. 6, so Nezumi presumed that Shion meant there was a mole in No. 6 who would pass the plans from No. 6 to No. 5. Shion saying that, however, failed to make him feel better about the situation. Not only did someone beat him to his goal, and not only did that someone work for No. 6, but that someone was Shion, Nezumi’s favourite-least-favourite agent of all time.

“Or, you could just give them to me,” Nezumi said, trying not to grit his teeth in annoyance. “The direct route.”

“Oh, I thought of that, but I need to plant these suspicious papers in the general’s desk so that you can find them before we leave,” Shion said, shoving a packet of artfully-worn letters under Nezumi’s nose. “Would you like to take these now?”

God, this was what Nezumi hated the most about Shion. He just blurted out his plans like a totally guileless airhead, the complete and utter opposite of how a spy should act. Nezumi hadn’t the faintest idea how Shion was even still alive. And when he pulled stunts like this – like putting planted intelligence in Nezumi’s hands – it was like he expected Nezumi to do his job for him, when the two cities they worked for were total enemies. And yet, Shion could be a ruthless killer – all the bodies outside proved it. And he could be stealthy, and smart – he had beaten Nezumi here, after all. But this – but this! How could Shion ever expect Nezumi would bring home dangerous fake intelligence?

Clenching his fists, Nezumi shoved the letters back under Shion’s nose. “Or, you could leave them here for some other fool to find,” he snapped. Shion looked up, red eyes wide and innocent.

“Really?” he said, and Nezumi thought to himself, shit. With that tone of voice, Shion was playing some kind of game with him.

“But if someone else finds these, how will they know they’re fake?” Shion said. What? “I mean, if someone else finds these letters when we aren’t here, who’s going to tell them they’re planted?”

“Why the hell do you want someone to think you planted them?” Nezumi said, confused and resentful. Mentally, he ran through all the ways Shion could be trying to trick him and what kind of outcomes this situation could have.

“Why do you think?” Shion retorted. “Come on, we only have about fifteen minutes until all the soldiers wake up.”

“They’re not dead,” Nezumi said stupidly. The soldiers outside, the ones lying all around that he had been practically stepping over, they weren’t dead. Why had Nezumi thought that? Oh, right, because he had expected No. 6 to send an actually competent spy to steal these documents. Some part of him that he didn’t want to acknowledge was a little relieved that Shion hadn’t actually killed all of them. It would have been totally against his character, and besides, harder to cover up.

Well, now Nezumi had to figure out a fifteen minute escape plan on top of arguing with this moron.

“No way. I’m a spy, not a murder,” Shion said. This was why people called him the Mad Doctor: because he was crazy, and because he was a pacifist. As far as Nezumi was concerned, both of those things were one and the same.

“Let’s get out of here,” Shion said, closing a drawer and shoving the letters back into Nezumi’s hands. Split-second decision time – reason was telling Nezumi that he should put these letters down and leave by himself, but knowing Shion, which was a totally irrational kind of knowledge, was telling him to take the letters and follow.

Nezumi went with his gut. Shoving the letters down the front of his shirt, he pulled the gas mask back over his face and followed Shion out of the office.

Outside, the hallway was still quiet and still. Nezumi and Shion briskly re-traced the path Nezumi had taken upon entering. If they walked fast, they would just make it out before the first soldiers woke. Already, a few of them were twitching. Every time someone moved, Nezumi felt a little bit more on edge. But even though he was physically on his guard, his mind was elsewhere.

Finally, he and Shion reached the elevator that would take them to the exit. Nezumi tossed aside the gas mask and let Shion punch the button for the first floor. It was a tense few minutes they passed as they climbed three floors up to the surface. When the elevator reached the top floor, they emerged from behind a false panel at the back of a closet, into an office in the back of a bookstore. The bookstore, of course, was a front for an office of the government of No. 4 – the bunker they had just come out of.

And now they just strolled into the bookstore like regular customers, like they totally belonged there. Nezumi had disabled the security cameras that watched the back of the store earlier – though he had no idea how Shion had gotten past them.

It always made Nezumi antsy to be near civilians while still on a mission, but fortunately the bookstore wasn’t very crowded. Both he and Shion headed for the exit, where Shion tried to blend in with the crowd and escape Nezumi’s notice. But Nezumi had other plans. Turning his collar up, he followed Shion through the bustling crowds of the old stone city until he reached a run-down hotel – then turned and entered the alleyway beside it.

Nezumi gritted his teeth, the letters Shion had given him burning a hole in his pocket. He knew Shion was waiting for him in that alley. But he entered, regardless.

Shion was waiting, leaning casually against the red brick of the hotel, his whole posture totally relaxed. Fuck him for playing around with Nezumi like this. Pulling a knife out of one sleeve, Nezumi shoved Shion up against the wall and pressed the tip to Shion’s neck, eliciting a little gasp of surprise.

“Who the hell are you working for?” Nezumi growled. The one conclusion that Nezumi could draw from this mess was that Shion was playing someone, and it was probably No. 5 – and him.

“Oh, you know,” Shion said vaguely, like Nezumi wasn’t in a position to kill him if he wanted to right this very minute.

“No, I don’t, and you’re going to tell me,” Nezumi said, feeling like he’d already lost this battle and hating himself for it. Shion always had that effect on him. “I could kill you, you moron.”

“Oh, you won’t,” Shion said, and had the nerve to smile. “We’re friends. Besides, we are on the same side. You know that, right?”

“You’re not working for No. 6,” Nezumi said flatly.

“I didn’t say that,” Shion said, frowning. So what Nezumi surmised from this was that Shion was a double agent, working for No. 6 on the face of it, but for No. 5 underneath. But why? How could Nezumi trust that Shion wasn’t just triple-crossing them all?

“And how did you come to this… arrangement?” Nezumi growled, pressing the knife against Shion’s neck so that Shion knew he wasn’t going to let up.

“I’ll tell you, but can’t we go inside?” Shion asked.

Inside the hotel?

Memories came to Nezumi’s mind: _another hotel room, a flash of skin on skin, heat. The first time he’d met Shion – young, bright like a shooting star, only found out later he was an agent. Never knew that something from the repulsive No. 6 could be so incandescently beautiful, could move him with desire and warmth. Shion’s eyes, pure and shining – he could walk out of the Correctional Facility itself and still look totally guileless. They met again and again, in No. 3, No. 9, No. 2, No. 1. Nezumi getting harder and bitterer, but Shion always the same. They’d never made love again._

_Not make love. You can’t afford the luxury of love when your life is built on secrets and lies._

“No,” Nezumi said. Then his brain caught up with his mouth and he added, “How am I supposed to know the place is clean?”

Referring, of course, to any potential surveillance devices Shion might have put in the hotel room.

“Oh, this isn’t my hotel. I came here because I knew you were following me, so it should be perfectly safe,” Shion said agreeably. “Don’t you think it’s time for us to have this conversation?”

Nezumi sighed, sheathing the knife – the inevitable outcome of this encounter, as always. For the first time, Shion looked worried, like the things they would say to each other actually mattered. Shion always thought that words actually mattered. Nezumi knew better than anyone how words were cheap.

When Nezumi agreed that they could go into this hotel to talk, he made Shion wait while he checked them in to a room. As soon as they got into it, they checked the entire thing over for bugs. When Shion was satisfied, he sat down on the couch. Nezumi felt awkward standing, so he pulled up a chair and watched Shion from across the coffee table with wary yet tired eyes.

“Tell me what you came to say,” Nezumi said sharply, hoping Shion could be persuaded to make this quick so he could go buy a bottle of alcohol and end this night in peace. The papers and his report could wait until tomorrow, since the bunker wasn’t his only mission in this city.

“Well…” Shion said, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought. Feeling his eyes inexorably dragged down to Shion’s lip, Nezumi made himself look up, meeting Shion’s ruby-red gaze. In it, he saw nothing but the feelings Shion was projecting on his face – thoughtfulness, concern.

“You were right about No. 6,” Shion said, and Nezumi started in surprise. “It’s not a good place. The people in No. 1 to No. 5 live so much better. And you’re right about something else. I’m not a dog with a master. I work for myself too. So that’s why I work for No. 5 now. Just like you.”

“Do you seriously think I’m going to trust your word?” Nezumi said. That was his standard reaction to anything Shion said. A part of him wondered what would be possible between them if Shion were telling the truth, but he knew it would never be possible. Not in this lifetime, but for a moment, Nezumi allowed himself to just want.

“Not really,” Shion said. “But it’s true, I swear it. And you know, Nezumi, we’re drawn to each other.”

Nezumi snorted, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“No, we are. We run into each other all the time, just like today. And Nezumi, even if you don’t feel it… I wanted to work with you and stand by your side. I don’t think I’ll be able to leave No. 6 soon, and No. 5 says they want me to stay there for now anyway. But I just wanted you to know. One day, I’ll be your equal, you’ll see. Even though I come from No. 6,” Shion said determinedly.

Nezumi knew that he should just shoot Shion down. Tell him that he knew Shion was lying (he didn’t) and that Shion should just leave, because until he got the orders from on high, and even then, Nezumi would never trust him.

But Shion was beautiful and earnest, and had never killed a man, though he certainly had blood on his hands. It was a kind of idealism Nezumi had never seen before, and fuck if Nezumi wasn’t totally weak to it. Maybe it was because they had met when Nezumi was young and corruptible, but he just couldn’t let Shion go.

So he allowed himself, just for a moment, to love in the middle of a lie. The only way he knew how.

Nezumi stood, sat down on top of the coffee table in front of Shion, looked into his eyes, and said:

“I don’t believe you. You should know that by now. But you’re right, I am drawn to you, although I would have said it better. So you can stay the night with me, but don’t expect anything after tomorrow morning. Is that what you want?”

Shion frowned, but the expression passed over his face faster than a shadow over water.

“No,” he said. “I want to be by your side. I want to stop being a spy and just be with you.”

_I want those things too_ , Nezumi thought to himself.

“But,” Shion continued. “That isn’t possible. So I’ll just have to keep working and survive until it is. And I won’t say no to – to being with you.”

Thank God, those were the words that Nezumi wanted to hear.

Taking Shion’s chin in his hand, Nezumi said simply, “Good.” He pressed his lips to Shion’s and kissed him. For long minutes, Shion was content to let Nezumi kiss and kiss him, pushing him down on the sofa and beginning to claim his lips and mouth. Finally, Nezumi sat up and led Shion to the bedroom.

Let the truth wait for another day. Tonight Shion belonged to Nezumi for certain, and not to No. 6.


End file.
